y ridiculous!"

No, not ridiculous; only a simple idea, and great in its simplicity.
For the manner of performing even menial duties, gives you the gauge
and dimensions of the doer's inward strength. The power of the soul
asserts itself, not so much in shaping favourable circumstances to
desired ends, as in resisting the pressure of crushing circumstances,
and triumphing over them.

Manufactures, trades, and all the subordinate arts and occupations
that keep the car of civilization in motion, may be to you machines
moving with a monotonous and unmeaning buzz, or they may be like
Ezekiel's vision of wheels involved in wheels, that were lifted up
from the earth by the power of the living creature that was in them.

Grumbling man or woman, life _is_ a treadmill to you, because you
look doggedly down and see nothing but the dull steps you take. If
you would cease grumbling, and look up, your life would be
transformed into a Jacob's ladder, and every step onward would be a
step upward too. And even if it were a treadmill, to which you and
other mortals were condemned for past offences, a kindly sympathy
for your fellow-prisoners could carpet the way with velvet, and you
might move on smilingly together, as through the mazes of an easy
dance.

It is of no use to preach the old sermon of contentment with one
condition, whatever it may be, a sermon framed for lands where
aristocracies are fixtures, in this generation and on this
continent. Discontent is a necessity of republicanism, until the
millennium comes.

Yet it is not sensible to complain of the present, until we have
gleaned its harvests and drained its sap, and it has become capital
for us to draw upon in the future. Most of the dissatisfied
grumblers of our day are like children from whom the prospect of a
Christmas pie, intended for the climax of a supper, takes away all
relish for the more solid and wholesome introductory exercises of
bread and butter.

What is it we would have our life? Not princely pop and equipments,
nor to "marry the prince's own," which used to form the denouement
of every fairy tale, will suffice us now; for every ingenious Yankee
school-boy or girl has learned to dissect the puppet show of
royalty, and knows that its personages move in a routine the most
hampered and helpless of all.

The honour of being four years in stepping from one door of the
"White House" to the other, ceases to be the meed of a dignified
ambition when it res